Destruction's Purpose
by Sleeter Soulfire
Summary: What happens at the end of everything? Destruction is necessary as it brings about the blank canvas for new creation, but has he gone too far this time?


Destruction's Purpose

Destruction knelt at her bedside, tears falling from his eyes freely. Internally he struggled between chastising himself for ever falling for a mortal and the deep despair of her loss.

She wasn't dead yet, he knew, and he planned to fight his sister when she arrived to claim her, he planned to rage and fight and beat her off, to protect his wife. He'd promised to love her and protect her in his wedding vows and had managed it until now.

He felt her behind him and whispered, "Death?"

She sighed and said, "Yes, brother. It's me."

"You can't take her," he'd expected to sound more forceful, but now she was here he was just pleading. It shouldn't end like this, he'd had such a short time with her, what was fifty years when your life was measured in aeons?

"It's her time."

How could his sister be so calm about this? "I love her," he whispered.

Death wasn't harsh. She didn't enjoy her job, it gave her no pleasure to have to take the lives of mortals, but if she didn't do it things got a whole lot worse. Death was compassionate, she cared about each of her charges, which ultimately was everyone and everything. "You knew her time would come. It comes to everyone," she tried to explain softly.

Here came the rage he'd been counting on. He leapt up and turned on her, fire blazing in his eyes. "No. No it doesn't! Orpheus, you refused to take him, you can refuse to take her! It's in your power!"

She stepped back from his fury, aware that the ceiling above him was charring from the heat of his anger. "He was family," she said gently, "and Dream took my curse back because it was too much for his son to bear."

Excuses! He had always hated the family's excuses. They held themselves to rules which they knew were only enforced on them by themselves. He'd broken one of the most fundamental rules and destruction had continued. His mind swam with retorts, his fists clenched and he wanted to punch, to break things. But who was he kidding. He could use his powers, sure, but destruction never saved, it only lead to more damage, more death.

He pushed past her, the tears streaming down his face. "I wont forget this, sister. I wont forgive you for taking her."

"Brother, there's still time. Be with her, please? She's in pain and scared, she just wants her husband by her side."

He was stubborn, she knew. "You had better hurry up then," he growled. Without another word he walked out the door.

Death crossed the room and knelt next to the bed of the old woman, her touch tender as she moved a lock of hair from the woman's face. She looked so frail, so weak now at the end. Her eyes flickered open and rested on Death's face, the fear the old woman though she'd feel wasn't there, only relief that the agony might soon be over.

"You look," the words were hard, "different to how I pictured you."

Death smiled softly, she liked it when they weren't afraid. "Yeah, I'm a big surprise."

The woman moved her head with effort. "Where's James?" she asked, the fear creeping up on her out of nowhere, panic gripping her heart. "Where's James? Please, don't take me, not before he's back. I couldn't bear to die alone."

Death shushed her gently, holding her hand. "He's, he's not coming," she said as kindly as she could, a lump in her throat, "but you're not alone. I'll be here until you're sleeping." With that the old lady faded away, passing on to whatever came next.

* * *

Destiny stood at a branch in the path leading through his garden. Ahead there were countless paths, countless branches, splitting, diverging, joining. Each path representing a potential future. Behind him there was only one path, one past. Only Destiny knew which path to follow, which future would be the one that ultimately happened. Only Destiny knew because only Destiny had the book.

"I'm standing in my gallery, except I'm not because I lost it, and I'm holding your sigil, only that's not true because I lost it aswell, but I remember it's a little book thing. I really need to talk, brother, will you see me?" Delirium's voice called out to him across the vastness of space.

"I will speak with you, little sister," he answered.

A second later Delirium was standing next to him, her appearance dishevelled but not as bad as he had seen it. "Are you feeling well, sister?" he asked her.

"Well, I was, then there was this man who liked cactuses, cacti? Anyway, I made it to he could see them all the time, because he liked them so much, you know, only I think it broke him because he stopped going out or talking and they put him in a hospital. Then I was sad. I thought he'd like it."

"Sister, you wanted something?" he asked pointedly, he should have known better than to attempt to engage his youngest sibling in casual conversation.

Delirium shrank back from him, cowering as if struck. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I have something to tell you, but you've got to promise to listen and not be mean. It's very important."

Destiny sighed inwardly. To say he didn't have time for this was a lie, since time was mutable here, allowing him as much of it as necessary to decide which path the book wanted him to follow, which future to choose. "I will not be mean, sister. I promise."

She nodded, still very uncertain, "You remember what I said, the last time we spoke? About there being things not in your book? About the coin having two sides?"

"Yes, I remember," he said, allowing his book to fall open, it always fell open at the right page. He read from the spidery writing, "You said, 'There are things not in your book. There are paths outside your garden. You would do well to remember that.' You continued, 'Coins have two sides. Destruction told us that, when he told us he was leaving. But I knew it already. You did too.'" He closed his book and tilted his head down at her, waiting.

"Erm, yeah. That's it," she hung her head and continued, "Desire and Despair played with our absent brother, making him fall for a mortal and then taking her from him."

"This I know, it is in my book."

"Yeah, well, they did too good a job," she licked her lips and looked up at him, her eyes different colours. "He's in my realm now. He's out of your book, out of the reach of Desire and Despair. They pushed him too far and he snapped."

Destiny looked at her, his eyeless stare weighing up what she'd just said. "I see nothing in this that concerns me," he said finally, "Destruction has relinquished his role. He abandoned us. His delirium will pass. He will always be subject to my book."

She stamped her foot and shouted, "Is my realm in your book? Does your book control me? No! You're not listening, you never do! You read your book and you think you know, but you don't understand."

He recoiled slightly, unused to his sister being so articulate, so forceful. "I'm sorry sister, everything is in the book. Everything is known by me because it is in the book."

She snarled and pointed at him, tears in her eyes from the frustration. "Not everything! No! We," she could feel the clarity slipping, it was so painful for her to be this focused, but it was essential he called the others here, explained to them that they must stop Destruction, there was no time.

"Um," she'd lost it, something about her brother? She missed him so much. "Do you think Destruction will come back to us?"

Destiny turned from her and started to walk down the path of his garden once again, snipping potential futures out of existence. "No," he said firmly, leaving her behind him.

* * *

Destruction slammed open the door to his study, delirious with grief and anger, fire blazing from his shoulders.

A fire already burnt in the room, as he knew it would. The sword of destruction was linked to its master and a reflection of him. He pulled the blazing shelf from the wall, punching his hand through the area, already charred and blackened, where he'd hidden the objects of his past life.

His hand came back holding the tiny handle of his sword, his power flowing through it and rebounding back into him. The sword, which had started out small, grew to its full length and as it did golden armour appeared over Destruction's body.

He wasn't thinking straight, he was off the rails and running on pure fury. A plan had formed in his mind which he would never, could never, have conceived of when sane and rational, but here and now he felt it was the only thing to do.

Mortals lived with this grief every moment of their lives. They must be helped. The grief must end. He'd assume the mantle of his former role, he had to. The suffering would end, he would see to it, the only way Destruction really understood.

* * *

Death closed the old woman's eyes, tears falling from her own. Her brother should have stayed, should have introduced her. He should have been here so the poor woman didn't have to die so scared. No one should have to die with such fear, especially not someone whose in laws were the Endless, who could have been prepared.

She stood and looked at the door, contemplating following him, shouting at him. It would do no good, of course. He was so pig headed and stubborn she could spend twenty minutes talking to the wall and have more chance of changing its mind that his. Plus, the deed was done, she was needed elsewhere. Her job never stopped, never.

She faded away, going to help the next soul who needed her.

* * *

Destiny looked up from his book. Something was wrong, paths were vanishing ahead of him. He flicked through the pages, back and forth, but found no explanation for the disappearing futures. For the first time since he became concious, Destiny felt afraid. He'd always known exactly what the future held because he chose it, but he wasn't aware of anything, any power or force, which could eliminate potential futures without it being in the book, without him knowing about it, without him being able to stop it if needed.

He quickly strode to his gallery, the family must be summoned at once.

"Family," he intoned, the formality of summoning a meeting important to him, "I stand in my gallery, I hold your sigils. We must talk. I call a meeting, you must attend."

Death and Dream appeared in their portraits almost instantly, the casual fashions of his sister causing him to grimace. "Formality, please?" he asked and she rolled her eyes, her clothing morphing into an outfit more fitting to his mind.

He waited for a few moments, staring at the empty portraits. Finally Desire appeared, followed shortly by Despair. Desire smiling confidently while Despair looked sad, almost ashamed.

Destiny waited a few more minutes before he called out, "Delirium, I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil, the family is gathered, the meeting commences. I request your presence, will you join us?"

"No!" came the reply, Delirium not appearing in her picture. "No, I came to you earlier, I warned you, there was time when I tried, but now it's too late," she rattled off, "Plus, you were MEAN, after you promised not to be."

"What's going on?" Death asked cautiously.

"Paths are disappearing, futures are being pinched out."

"So? Isn't that the nature of your garden, brother?" Desire asked, its interest hard to peak at the best of times.

"You misunderstand. Futures are disappearing, but I am not choosing." They each knew that the paths in Destiny's garden were his to choose, his to decide from. The news that something else was interfering with this shocked most of them, titillating Desire. The Endless each had the power to try to alter the course of history, but none would do so in such a blatant way.

"Who is causing it?" Dream asked, "I assume it is the machinations of one of us here?" His look pointedly at Desire, who above all of them enjoyed the mischief of interfering.

Destiny shook his head. "I don't know who or what is forcing the end of futures without my permission."

Dream frowned and Desire blew him a sarcastic kiss and a wink.

"I know," came the voice of Delirium.

"Sister, please join us, we wish you to be part of the meeting," Death asked gently, her look focused on Destiny, daring him to disagree as she continued, "Destiny is sorry he was mean, we promise to listen, we need to know what you know."

Delirium appeared in her portrait, her state of dress and her hair as wild as any of them had ever seen. "It's Destruction," she said grumpily her arms folded, "I told him earlier, but he didn't listen."

The Endless each displayed their own varying levels of disbelief, from shaking their heads to laughing, only Death looked to be taking her sister seriously. "How do you know this, little sister, while Destiny does not?"

"Coz," it was so hard to keep focused, but she must. The pain of thinking clearly, or speaking in words which weren't gibberish causing her to wince before she pressed on, "Because he's been pushed out of our brother's book. If it's not in his book he doesn't believe it exists, but it does. My realm isn't in his books, my choices are not plotable or pilotable. Destruction is in my realm, he is delirious with grief and rage."

"I," Death said hesitantly, "I took his wife, this morning."

"He married? He married a mortal?" Dream asked in disbelief.

Desire coughed a delicate cough and said, "I may have had something to do with that."

* * *

Destruction had set about his work, he held his sword over his head and sent out its energy into the minds of the leaders of Earth and every sentient species beyond. Minor disputes became blazing conflicts. Weapons which had previously been deemed so destructive that their use was inconceivable were used. Nuclear wars, biological wars, and chemical wars broke out on countless planets throughout the universe and beyond.

* * *

Death swooned and dropped to her knees, feeling the pressure of the lives piling up waiting to be taken.

"Sister!" Dream rushed to her side and embraced her. "Sister?"

"It's true," Death whispered. "It's all true, and I must go." She vanished, the pain of not claiming those being killed pressing on her. She had to return to her realm, unable to offer the personal service she normally gave, having to just concentrate on releasing each soul from its body.

As the sentient beings began to eliminate each other Dream felt it too. It felt like someone was reaching into him and scooping out his insides. The dreams of the sentient had been the driving force behind his power for aeons. He had existed as long as things had slept and dreamt, but he'd only risen to his current level of power when those dreams stopped being simple and started to get complicated, passionate, terrifying.

Desire felt the shift too. The mortal play things it enjoyed tormenting were also the source of its power. When they, almost as one, turned from desire to destruction it felt it as a light headedness. The room started to spin and it collapsed. How could Destruction manage such a rapid shift?

* * *

He allowed himself a moment of pride in his job. Destruction wasn't finished though. Those planets not devastated by war could eventually be the cradles of future life, pain would still happen. Grief and loss.

He sent his mind out into the hearts of the stars. He'd never considered it before, but he was able to control them too. They destroyed as much as they created. He went outside and looked into the sky, his eyes watched the stars, knowing he wouldn't see the effects of his actions but feeling them blaze, explode and wink out one by one all the same.

* * *

"Delirium, you must stop him!" Dream demanded, feeling queasy.

"I CAN'T!" she screamed, tears of frustration and pain streaming down her face. "People don't come to me because I want them to. I don't play games with them, I don't torment them and lure them in. I don't... I can't," she faltered, the wars had brought her new power, the chemical weapons of many of the conflicts causing delirium in their victims.

Chemical induced delirium wasn't as potent as what she was getting from her brother, but it all added to her. "We are talking and he's destroying it all," she finished.

Despair had been quiet throughout the whole meeting, feeling shame at allowing Desire to talk her into playing with her brother. She missed him, like Delirium did. She reached her hook up to her face and dug the sharp metal into her flesh, slicing open her cheek and feeling better for it. She felt the despair of all the people caught up in the conflicts raging, ashamed that it filled her so fully, felt so good.

"He can't destroy it all, can he?" Desire asked, its normal confident swagger gone, addressing the question to Destiny.

"Look," was Destiny's only answer, pointing out over his garden.

Where once there was a single path from the past, branching off into countless millions, countless billions of branches of the future there was now just one path, which ended abruptly within sight.

"It is clear to me now that this was meant to be," Destiny said calmly. "I had always assumed that the end had to come from Destruction. I just assumed I would be the one to choose it."

* * *

Destruction could feel the last of the sentient life winking out, burnt up in the roar of war, or the heat of exploding suns. Not long now. Not long until there will be peace. Suffering at its end.

* * *

Death strained to help those who were suffering. Dead but trapped in their body until she released them. The effort was excruciating.

As suddenly as it had started it stopped. A billion, billion, billion souls, released in only a few minutes. She recoiled in horror at what her brother had done, able to concentrate on something other than their passing now. She felt the stars die and released them, she felt the planets die and released them. She felt Dream and Desire die, crying that she hadn't the time to go to them, to ease their passing. Despair and Delirium fell next and Death wept. She had to stay in her realm, Destruction was not through killing the universe, his power was bent to the purpose as was hers in following his path, freeing the inanimate souls of planets and suns.

Death closed her eyes, tears falling down her face. When she opened them she was no longer in her realm, but instead hanging in nothingness. Destiny and Destruction floating before her.

"You next, brother," Destruction roared, thrusting his sword into Destiny who vanished from existence.

She shook her head and released him. The brutality of Destruction's actions horrifying her.

"You too, sis," he said, panting heavily from the effort of ending existence.

"No, brother," she whispered, "Destiny is subject to me, as are you. He could be dispatched because his role is fulfilled, but mine isn't."

He took a deep breath of nothing and laughed. His laugh shaking his whole form, the vicious heaves of laughter giving way, slowly, to heaves of grief. He curled up into a foetal position, crying as hard as he had been laughing just a few moments ago. "What have I done," he whispered softly.

"You've fulfilled your role, brother. You've destroyed what was created," she answered softly, crying tears for him too. Her compassion extending even to him, at the end of everything.

"Why," he whispered, barely able to be heard.

"Because you were in pain. Because you were blinded by grief. Because you're an idiot. Whatever the reason, you did it. You are done." She reached out and placed her hand on his shuddering shoulder. "You are done," she repeated softly, and Destruction was no more.

She hung there, time meaningless with nothing to measure it against, weeping. The other Endless had often joked and mused about who would be the last of them, who would turn out the lights, so to speak, at the end of everything. They had always come down to Destiny or Death to be the last. Death had always knew she would be left alone, she was every time.

"So, here we are again, time for a fresh start?" a familiar but long forgotten female voice said from behind her.

Death turned, her eyes still flooded with tears but she was smiling. "Hey, Dawning. It's been a while."


End file.
